


Contrivance

by Zeke Black (istia)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 2K Round-up Challenge, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Old West, POV Chris Larabee, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istia/pseuds/Zeke%20Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Seven take refuge from a storm on the trail. Chris waits. A fill for my Trope Bingo prompt "huddle for warmth".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contrivance

They had fourteen balls between them to protect and they were doing a bitching good job of it, all things considered, curled up together tight and snug as a nest full of hedgehogs in winter hibernation.

He was drowsy, halfway to sleep, with Vin pressed warm and pliant against his back and Josiah's bulk shielding his front. They'd pooled their liquor stock to share between them before settling down, which'd taken the edge off the gnawing hunger; even JD had taken a couple of gulps, face scrunched up, at Nathan's urging. The line shack they'd stumbled on didn't have a barn--hell, it barely had a _shack_ that lived up to the name--or they'd've slept with the horses; they just had to trust the animals would weather the storm all right in the corral out back. The horses had gathered under a clump of trees at the south end and seemed content enough to ride out the worst together. The blankets they'd pulled off them with the saddles itched like hell and weren't big enough to cover much, but they were doing okay at keeping certain strategic parts of them warm, laid out across their midsections in a long row like a crazy quilt. A man had his priorities.

The wind whistled through the cracks in the walls, but the saddles they'd piled in front of the biggest hole was keeping the worst of the snow out. Dawn was a good ways off, but he reckoned they'd make it, and it'd come quicker the sooner he fell asleep. Which he was just about to do. He'd been on the edge of doing it for a good while now; there wasn't any damned reason he shouldn't just slide right down into sleep....

Except for the heaving down at the other end of their pile, and a gusty sigh, and the scrape of a boot heel.

"Goddammit, Ezra! That was my leg you kicked!"

"I apologize, JD. Please excuse my ill manners as a symptom of my _near demise_ from the attack of _icicle tentacles_ that keep snaking down my back and _stabbing me_."

Yeah, except for that bitching reason.

"Ezra, will you just the hell settle down! Here, I'll take the outside; just get in here between me and JD. We've melted all the dad-blamed icicles for you." Buck's voice was a rough mix of sleepiness and irritation.

Why anyone had thought for a minute they'd get any sleep with Ezra occupying the coldest spot nearest the door escaped him. Even with Ezra choosing it himself, preferring, as always, to keep an escape route clear--he happily left the rest of them to see to their own defenses, of course--and, at the same time, being his usual standoffish self, the outcome was as predictable as shit in a bats' cave.

"I appreciate your offer, Buck, but, unfortunately, now I'm up, I just have to duck outside for a, uh...moment."

Whiskey-scented breath fanned Chris's cheek as Josiah snorted, but Vin just pressed his forehead more firmly between his shoulder blades, probably slipping even deeper into sleep, the lucky bastard. Vin never did have a problem both falling asleep anywhere he felt safe and ignoring Ezra. Pity the rest of them had never mastered either trick. Chris hunkered down behind the shield of Josiah's broad shoulders as Ezra pulled the door open and disappeared on a blast of freezing air, a litany of curses following him.

The wind had time to whistle a goddamned tune through the stones of the crumbled chimney and lift another shake off the roof with a screech and a rattle before the door squealed open and slammed shut again.

"Good lord! Remind me to invest in a travel chamber pot the next time we venture into the wilderness."

"Just use an old bottle like us ordinary folk do and don't go traipsing outside in a storm like a damned fool." Nathan's voice was muffled, like he had his face buried in his arm, or maybe against Josiah or Buck.

Before Ezra could spout off with his opinion on the hygienic habits of the heathens he had somehow, inexplicably, come to associate with--they were all familiar with that particular speech by now--Buck added, "And lie the fuck down and shut up and go to sleep before I brain you to put the rest of us out of our misery."

The strike of a match sounded in the silence between gusts of wind, then Ezra's boots on the floor getting closer. Faint light showed through Chris's closed eyes and he knew if he opened them, he'd see Ezra's shadow stretching monstrously overhead. The light winked out and he waited.

"It pains me to admit that a more protected spot in the middle of you heated...gentlemen is now a requirement, if you don't mind, Josiah. Otherwise, you all might have the task of digging a grave in the frozen ground in which to deposit my blue corpse tomorrow, and that amount of labor sounds decidedly unpleasant."

Josiah hmpfed, but shifted backwards a few inches, anyway; they all knew the quickest route to peaceful rest was to just bitching give in. Chris immediately felt the chill of the space Josiah left all down his front, goddammit. The shuffling and grunts of Nathan, Buck, and JD in Josiah's wake sounded as they moved closer to the door, too. Ezra wormed his way between him and Josiah, appropriated a good portion of Chris's blanket to settle over his own prick area, and generously draped the edge of his blanket over Chris's hip in return.

And there he was, middle of a hellblazer of a storm, still a day out from town, food gone, whiskey now also all gone, horses hopefully not gone by morning, with Vin a comfortable warmth against his back like a man-sized hot water bottle and a shivering lump of ice and pissiness plastered against his front. Josiah's bass snoring got underway and, in short order, JD was making that little whistling noise he did when he was asleep.

Chris waited until Buck's heavy, rhythmic breathing joined the accustomed chorus before he shifted, eyes still closed, just enough to rest his forehead against Ezra's. His nostrils flared as he drew in Ezra's scent, the familiar mix of pomade and whiskey, of horse and cold freshness. Ezra had already burrowed his hands into the warmth under Chris's coat, but at least he hadn't yet tried to sneak them under his shirt.

Under the cover of cloth and darkness, Chris wrapped his fingers around Ezra's wrist. Ezra's pulse beat strong and steady against his hand, and it was all right then and he slid into sleep.


End file.
